


like ghosts in the snow

by klausmoon



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Consent Discussion, Consent Issues, Dissociation, Drug Addiction, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Klave, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Ending, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:46:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29387205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klausmoon/pseuds/klausmoon
Summary: Klaus never knew innocence until he knew Dave.Innocent meant soft. Innocent meant clean. Innocent meant pure. Dave was all of those things.Dave was everything.ORA series of flashbacks showing the good and the painful times between Klaus and Dave in Vietnam.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	like ghosts in the snow

**Author's Note:**

> ( --- ) means time jump between present klaus and memories vietnam.

Klaus never knew innocence until he knew Dave. 

Of course, he’d observed it, in the ebb and flow of flights of birds he used to watch from his bedroom window at the academy, or in the babies in ridiculous outfits he would see being coddled by their mothers; destined for the life he had never had. But Klaus never knew innocence until he knew Dave.

Before Dave, innocence to Klaus was something unreachable. Something he would fake to perverted old men from the club when they asked him to call them ‘Daddy’ for a roof over his head, or when he would dumb himself down until he was unrecognisable to himself so he could fit some weirdos fantasy for warm food in his stomach, but Klaus wasn’t innocent. In fact, he felt unclean for as long as he can remember, rotten from the outside in, and everything and everyone he touched or kissed or fucked became rotten too. Klaus wanted to be innocent.

Innocent meant soft. Innocent meant clean. Innocent meant pure. Dave was all of those things. 

Dave was everything.

\---

Klaus rolls off his cot before landing on the dirty floor with an almost comical thud. Dave laughs affectionately before sliding off his own cot to help Klaus up again.

‘There’s no way in hell you’re as hungover as you’re making yourself out to be, Klaus Hargreeves. If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you just want me to keep coming over here to pick you up’ Dave exclaims with a grunt, peeling a dramatic Klaus off of the floor of the tent.

Klaus smirks at the full name address, dramatically clasping a hand over his heart in false offence, ‘I would never Davey, and I can’t believe you’d suggest something of the sort!’ He exclaims, while simultaneously melting into Dave’s firm grip under his arms.

Dave snickers. ‘Fine. Since you’ve seem to have lost all function of your legs I might just have to lay here with you.’ Dave says, pulling both of them onto Klaus’ cot, built to barely fit one, but they somehow manage with Klaus’ head resting on Dave’s chest and their legs in an incomprehensible tangle. 

Klaus doesn’t complain.

A familiar bang sounded somewhere in the distance. It went unacknowledged by the two boys. To say it would make it real and neither of the lovers wanted to leave the imaginary protective bubble that hung around the dingy cot. Klaus almost believed if someone were to come in here and shoot right at them, the imaginary bubble would deflect it right back off. 

A bubble of innocence.

‘Don’t you dare throw up on me.’

\---

But Dave is gone, and the bubble popped. Klaus was first to leave the cot on a sprint to the opening of the tent to throw up; breaking the seal along with him, sending them both back out into the war outside that craved innocents, just like the men in the bar craved Klaus’. Just like the Hargreeves children’s father had craved theirs, and all the war bothered to leave behind is hazy memories of Dave’s big blue eyes full of something that Klaus felt too stupid to even bother to try to comprehend, his gentle but callused hands, that wouldn’t dare leave ugly marks on Klaus’ skin like so many others had and his lips, that told Klaus that he loved him in a way so, so different from any kind of love Klaus had known before.

The world does nothing good for innocents; Klaus reckons. Mother Nature herself will devour them, chew them up and spit them back out onto the hard, drought-ravaged ground of Somalia, or to the relentless, freezing cold of Yakutsk before she would let someone devoid of pain use her earth. 

Klaus would rather face God and tell her one hundred times over he’s agnostic than accept something with a heart would do this, That someone with a heart could kill his Dave. 

\---

Klaus feels like he’s melting into the ground. He’s been in ‘Nam 3 months and unfortunately for him and for whoever has the misfortune of being within earshot of him during a loaded march, he’d landed just before summer broke, making this the warmest 3 months of Klaus’ entire life. 

For the millionth time, Klaus is complaining, as per usual, to Dave. 

‘I’m just saying, I’d rather freeze to death than make it the rest of the way up this hill, Dave. I’ve slept in snow and it was more bearable than this. I mean, maybe I didn’t make it through the entire night because Diego was doing his dumb night patrol thingy and found me... Oh! you don’t even know Diego! OK picture this, think Batman, but...’

One thing Dave learned about Klaus, is that he talked. A lot. And a lot of the time, Dave discovered, it was to cover up pain or some other unwanted problem Klaus was facing. Klaus would dance and sing around the problem before he was forced to face it head-on. Dave had watched as Klaus had shown up to ‘Nam going through a nasty withdrawal: fever, shakes, vomiting, the lot. Klaus and he had talked about it a little, once they were acquaintanced and over the small talk stage, and Dave watched as something close to vulnerability flashed across Klaus’ face, and after a short explanation of how control to Klaus meant losing control, he had glanced off to a point over Dave’s shoulder and spieled a long-winded tangent about the time that reminded him of the time he lost control of his dad’s favourite car, crashing it into a ditch. Klaus’ tangents often left Dave with more questions than answers and usually included at least one piece of information that made Dave wonder how on earth his lover is still alive, but Dave had also realised that Klaus’ preferred method of avoiding problems was a lot worse than just talking. So Dave let him talk.

‘...and really, Marvel has always been better than DC anyways. Maybe we could go see one sometime. Are movie theatres even popular yet? Dave?’ Klaus rounds off, looking around to meet Dave’s zoned out eyes. Klaus pouts.

‘No, no I’m listening babe, I’m sorry I just… Why were you sleeping in the snow?’

And like magic, on the word ‘snow’, Klaus looks up to find speckles of white floating toward them from the sky. 

‘What the hell? Dave, it’s snowing! Look! In what? August? Oh my God, Dave, you’re like Allison! You just said it and it happened! Look Davey watch!’ Klaus exclaims, almost jumping with excitement, hand outstretched, ready to catch the white confetti now pouring from the sky.

Dave looks down and sighs. He knows better. He’s been here longer. Dave, for the first and second last time, has to ruin the seemingly only remaining Klaus’ innocence. ‘No, Klaus that’s not… that’s not snow. That’s-’

\---

Ash. 

It was ash. Klaus knows now, nothing as innocent as snow could've happened back there. Mother Nature is never that generous. There’s always a twist. 

Klaus knows now, there are twists to everything. He can’t just hit up his dealer without spending the night, he can’t stay in a pure state of euphoria without poisoning his body and mind in the process, and most of all, Klaus can’t fall in love. When Klaus falls in love it never lasts. He’s either kicked out, hit enough times for Ben to convince him to leave, or… they die. 

That’s a first. 

Klaus was always scared Dave would get sick of him and leave. Or find out how disgusting Klaus was, how utterly rotten he is from the inside out, Or how many men called him theirs before Dave got to, and feel so betrayed that he’d have no choice but to leave and find someone better before he too grew tainted for Klaus’ mere presence.

Despite Klaus’ warily long list of sexual experiences, Klaus was terrified to have sex with Dave for the first time. Before it happened, he wondered if he would have to fake innocence for Dave, to pretend he was a malleable, boyish virgin who knew nothing of the utterly terrifying world of sex. Klaus would wonder if he would have to ignore every instinct he had and lean into one of Dave’s hands wrapped around his neck despite his lungs screaming for oxygen, or if when it all became too much, would he have to do his thing where he’d close his eyes and just drift, somewhere far, far away, until it was over and he’d come back to reality naked and sweaty beside a dark, sleeping figure beside him, and he’d slip out of bed, pull on clothes, pull $50 from the stranger’s wallet and pretend it never happened.

But of course, nothing of the sort happened; because Dave was kind, and Dave was gentle and Dave was so, so innocent.

\---

Before Dave, Klaus laughed at the term ‘making love’. What’d that even mean? How did the creation of love fit into sex? To Klaus, it sounded like a term a nun would use in some convent while teaching kids about the ‘unforgivable sin of sex before marriage’ or whatever. But if Klaus were to ever give any situation the label of ‘making love’, it would be this.

Klaus feels worshipped. Dave pays attention to all of him, passionate but so, so gentle. He doesn’t squeeze a hand around Klaus’ throat, he doesn’t push Klaus’ face into the pillow with a hand on the back of his head, but he caresses him with feather-light touches, every move of muscle done with love. It makes Klaus feel like a clueless teenager all over again, terrified and embarrassed because of his lack of knowledge on the subject at hand because whatever knowledge he had about sex before Dave, feels like it can’t help Klaus out int his situation at all.

Because Klaus feels innocent.

And Klaus feels pure.

And then; he panics. 

‘Woah woah woah, wait what’s wrong?’ Klaus hears. He looks down to see Dave, head halfway up his thigh, staring at him with wide, concerned eyes. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Klaus doesn’t know what else to say. His cheeks are wet and he notices a tremble in his hands when he lifts them to wipe his own cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry this hasn’t happened before, I-I don’t know why I’m… I don’t know why I’m crying, I didn’t…’ Of course, he had to go and ruin this for Dave, he thinks, even though he knows it’s his first time with another man, stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid-

‘Hey, hey no, it’s ok did I do something wrong?’ Dave asks, his voice soft and uncertain. He pauses for a moment before he adds, ‘...did I hurt you?’ 

Klaus’ heart sinks. This is all his fault. Now Dave thinks he did something wrong, ‘No! No no Dave you were perfect I promise. You are perfect, I’m just…’ He breathes out a shaky sigh and presses his palms onto his closed eyes, hard enough to see stars. ‘I’ve just never… I’ve never had sex like… this. 

Klaus removes his hands from his eyes to see Dave still staring at him, looking confused beyond belief. Klaus could almost see the cogs working behind his forehead, turning relentlessly to try to find something wrong he did to make Klaus cry like he is in front of him. He takes Klaus’ hand and pulls him up off his back so their eyes are level. Klaus suddenly feels vulnerable in his very naked state.

‘What do you mean ‘like this’?’ Dave asks softly. ‘I thought… you said you’ve had sex with men before, right?

‘Yeah yeah, I’ve… definitely had sex with men before,’ Klaus lets out a bitter laugh. Way too many men. A number Klaus would never try to guess in front of Dave, out of pure shame. ‘I meant, I’ve never had sex with someone so… gentle. I don’t know. It’s dumb. We can keep going, if you want?’ Klaus says hurriedly, attempting to lean back, tugging at Dave’s hand as an invitation.

‘No, wait a second, Klaus’ Dave says calmly, although Klaus can see how the blush on his face paled a little, and how his hand has gripped a little tighter onto Klaus’ as if letting him go meant Klaus would slip away. ‘What do you mean people weren’t gentle with you? Did somebody hurt you?’

‘No! I mean, yeah, but not like- it wasn’t like... like rape or anything!’ Klaus pours, willing to end the conversation as soon as possible and show Dave that he isn’t hurt and that he isn’t some fragile china doll that could shatter at a moments notice. ‘I’ve told you I’ve slept around back home, right? I’ve just… never thought about sex like how it is with you? Like with others I just… I guess I just thought if I made them feel good enough I’d be given something in return that would make it worth my while… and maybe I liked them paying attention to me. I dunno. I just thought I knew everything about sex and it caught me off guard, that’s all.’ Klaus finishes, looking everywhere but Dave’s eyes; terrified that the moment he looks up he’ll be met with that all-to-familiar ‘you weren’t lying when you said you’re fucked up huh’ look.

But, Dave reaches out, cups Klaus’ chin and raises his head to meet his own eyes. ‘I love you Klaus.’ he says. Klaus’ stomach backflips. ‘and the last thing I want is for you to feel like this is me wanting something from you, or what you’re doing is some kind of favour, because it’s not. I want to have sex with you because I love you, not because I want to take something from you, and I want you to understand that before you want to continue.’ He says carefully, choosing each and every word with care.

‘I understand,’ Klaus says, in barely a whisper. ‘I love you too, and I know you’d never hurt me, Dave. I’m sorry for ruining the mood.’

Dave giggles. ‘Okay, and babe, you’re going to have to do a lot more to ruin the mood.’ he says, leaning into Klaus’ face until their noses are almost touching. ‘Do you wanna keep going?’

‘Absolutely’

\---

And that they did. It was beautiful, and it was making love. But, like everything else, it ended.

Klaus always hated endings. Endings to movies, endings to friendships, endings to lives; because when it ended people started to forget, memories started to become hazy and then drift away completely, and there’s nothing Klaus wouldn’t give to not forget Dave. What’s the point in watching the movie in the first place if he won’t remember it in a couple of years, what’s the point in friendships if, after a long enough time, the mention of their name brings only a mere spark of recognition before dying away, what’s the point in life if when it’s gone it leaves only pain, and then nothing at all. Klaus doesn’t regret falling in love, the only thing he regrets is not dying along with it.

Klaus has seen what happens to the dead, he grew up with it. The wailing, the begging, the anger; death changes people, there’s no innocence in death. Even in the children in clean white dresses and pig-tails lies no innocence but rather a dark story and a lost spirit. But knowing this, and knowing life, Klaus would still pick death if it meant he picks Dave. 

After Vietnam, Klaus may as well be dead. Jumping from motel to motel, alleyway to alleyway, he remembers little about what goes on. He knows he sees Diego sometimes, he picks him up off the floor, they talk for a bit about nothing in particular and then he leaves with a pat on the back and a ‘stay safe bro’. Klaus doesn’t blame him. He’s unreachable. He always has been.

As for now? Klaus isn’t sure where he is. A motel, maybe. Or a house. He’s on a bed anyway. But there’s a hand on the back of his head and his face is pressed into a pillow.

And there’s a window.

And it’s snowing.

Klaus can’t quite figure out the twist yet.

Somewhere, in the near distance, Klaus hears the familiar repetitive sound of skin on skin, and the deep groans from a man who sounds nothing like Dave. Is one of the skins his?

Klaus doesn’t know. Or care. Because Klaus is so, so far away, in a land where it always snows, and where he and Dave exist eternally in their bubble of innocence, where they can float away, like angels in the snow, into; first, a hazy memory:

and then into nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> and that was my first ever fanfic :) comments are appreciated.


End file.
